


Rained In

by DwarvenBeardSpores



Category: Howl Series - Diana Wynne Jones, Howl's Moving Castle - All Media Types, JONES Diana Wynne - Works
Genre: Family Issues, Gen, Rain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 13:33:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9274325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DwarvenBeardSpores/pseuds/DwarvenBeardSpores
Summary: Howl goes to Wales to visit his niece, but he didn't count on the weather. Being rained in the same house as his sister is not an ideal situation.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So @booksaresacredspew sent in several prompts right around new years and I’ve FINALLY finished one! So here’s Howl, Megan, and Mari for the prompt “when it rains/snows/storms”.
> 
> Wound up longer than anticipated, and I really hope I got Howl and Megan’s dynamic right. There’s a LOT going on between them (I’ll probably make use of another story to explore it further) and I’m trying to tease it out as well as I can.

Howl Pendragon opened the door to his castle black-side down and stepped through a sea of nothingness into Wales.

Instantly he was drenched. 

Rain was coming down in buckets and bathtubs and small lakes, soaking right through his clothes (which were still in the misty state halfway between his nicest suit and a sweatshirt and jeans), and utterly ruining his hair. Thunder rumbled somewhere nearby, and with it came a great gust of wind, and Howl very much thought that he should turn tail and go back to Ingary, where (in Market Chipping at least) it was a pleasant day. Sophie had taken Morgan outside for a walk in the sun, and Calcifer was cheery because the air was dry and no one thought of asking him to stay in the hearth and keep the castle warm. 

Howl was about to open the door again and go back to Ingary, send his apologies later, but someone on the Wales side opened the door first. 

“Uncle Howell!” Mari cried, and Howl found himself being dragged into the house where it was blissfully warm and dry. “I thought that was you out there,” Mari chattered on. “Mum said you weren’t coming, not when it started raining, or even before, but I knew you’d be here.”

She started pulling him all the way into the house, and Howl followed. He got only a few steps when he was interrupted by a very pointed “ahem” and stopped in his tracks. 

“Hello Megan,” Howl said, brushing sopping hair out of his face so he could see her properly.

She did not look pleased to see him. “Shoes off,” she said, crossing her arms. “I won’t have you tracking all of Wales through my living room, thank you very much.” 

This was very clearly a battle that was not worth winning. Howl stepped backwards until he was standing on the mat and looked at his shoes, which had formerly been boots. Ironically were the least damp part of him, and not muddy in the slightest. “A pleasure to see you too,” he said. “You’ll recall Mari and I had plans for today.” 

“Uncle Howell is going to play rugby with me!” Mari said, beaming. 

Megan sighed through her nose. “Yes, I know all about your plans. Funny, isn’t it, how the one day you decide to follow through with something is the day we get hit by the worst gale of the year. I can’t imagine you think you’ll still be able to run about outside in this.” As if to prove her point, another tremendous roll of thunder filled the room and the lights flickered. 

“Well,” Howl began, and then stopped, because he didn’t really have a good answer. It would have helped if he’d looked out the Wales-side window this morning, but he hadn’t, and it was no good telling Megan that he’d only just learned about the storm a minute ago. 

“And don’t even think about leaving now,” Megan said severely. “Walking, you’d catch cold, and driving you’d be certain to crash, and then what would the neighbors think.” And that, Howl decided, was the closest Megan was ever going to come to an invitation.

“Yes yes yes, stay!” Mari cheered, and Howl couldn’t help smiling. At least someone appreciated him. 

“You really could have called,” Megan said as Howl took off his shoes. “Set another date instead of showing up out of the storm like this, scaring us half to death,” she added as Howl took off his sweatshirt and hung it on the door handle. The shirt he had on underneath was rather damp too, as were his jeans. He could have dried them quite easily with magic, but instead he waited, half listening, as Megan went on about one thing or another. Finally, when she stopped for breath, he took his chance. 

“You wouldn’t happen to have any dry clothes, would you?” 

It turned out that she did have clothes, some of Gareth’s. They didn’t fit Howl exactly, and the material wasn’t as nice as he would’ve liked, but they were dry. In the time it took to fetch them out of the closet, Megan had managed to criticize his own style of dress for being at once too slovenly and too expensive, the fact that he didn’t seem to own an umbrella (even though he did), the fact that his car was still in the garage, and the way he was going to teach Mari such a rough sport at such a young age.

The walls seemed to lean in on him, like they tended to do in this house. If Sophie wondered why he spent so much time running away, well, this was it. 

Megan finished by asking him where he was working nowadays, and by then Howl was feeling so wrung out that he very nearly said “I’ve been doing odd jobs for a king.” Sophie would have, he thought, and been completely unapologetic about leaving it at that, but Sophie wasn’t there, and Howl was too much of a coward. 

So instead he said “let’s go, Mari!” and followed her lead as she ran excitedly out of the room and up the pink and green stairs. He tried to ignore the disapproving snort behind his back. 

Mari’s room was a shock of purple that Howl quite approved of. It was also full of dragons. Apparently, they had become her new favorite, and she wasted no time in telling him the names, birthdays, and favorite foods of every toy and statue in her room, switching arbitrarily between English and Welsh. Most of them looked fantastical and charming. A few looked uncomfortably close to what real dragons looked like, and Howl couldn’t help but eye them nervously. 

He also couldn’t help but give her a few practical tips. No, dragons don’t like baths, but they’re also not nearly as fond of stealing princesses as the legends would tell you. He knew of one who had an affinity for fine needlepoint.

“Uncle Howell?” Mari asked, just after that fact. “Have you ever met a real dragon?” 

Howl crossed his legs and leaned against Mari’s bed. “Well, you see, dragons tend to be solitary creatures. And I’m no fool, you know, I stay very far away unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

“But there are real dragons,” Mari pressed. Her eyes shone out of her round face with hope and wonder for the impossible. It was not unlike how Howl had seen himself every time he looked in a mirror during the first year he’d lived in Ingary.

“Of course there are,” Howl said. He grabbed a stuffed dragon off the bed and swooped it towards Mari’s face. “See? Raaaaaaaurg!” 

Mari squealed in delight and, hopefully, distraction. 

Meanwhile, the rain continued. 

Howl and Mari moved on to rugby. They couldn’t go out and run around in the yard like Howl had planned, but he settled for explaining the positions with dragons, and sharing some stories of his exploits back when he played on the university team. He exaggerated just a little bit, because Mari liked it, and besides, that’s just how storytelling is done. 

By the time Megan shouted up that dinner was ready, it was raining harder than ever. Howl had no choice but to stay and join them. Gareth hadn’t made it home yet, and Neil was apparently staying at a friend’s. The three had just sat down when suddenly there was the loudest roll of thunder yet and the lights all over the house flickered once and then snapped out. 

Mari shrieked. Megan bit off a swear (though not one as loud or as fierce as Sophie would have used). “I suppose I’d better check the fuse box,” she said, her voice just as sharp even when muffled by the darkness. “Unless Howell wants to make himself useful for once.”

“Well I appreciate that,” Howl said. He could have let it go there, but he was fed up, and he hated being fed up. He climbed up until he was standing on the chair and reached for the light above the table. It took him a few seconds of fumbling, but he soon held the bulb in his hands. It was warm with a different kind of energy than Howl was used to. 

“What are you doing? Howell!” Megan snapped, but Howl ignored her. 

He coaxed energy out of the air, the way one did when casting an on-the-spot spell. It was always a bit harder in Wales than in Ingary. Wales liked to hide its magic. It was there, weaving through buildings and curling up from the ground, but the people didn’t use it for anything more than atmosphere, like a thick mist. In Ingary, magic was so close to the surface, so tied into the patterns of the world, that it was quite possible for a strong magic user to snap their fingers and accidentally set off a small explosion.  

Still, Howl knew Wales, it was in his blood, and he knew how to call a spark of light out of the darkness and into the lightbulb. It wasn’t electricity, no. Someone would still have to mess with the fuse box later. But a simple illumination spell, cast in the center of the bulb certainly did the trick. 

“There,” he said, with a charming smile down at the others. Mari whooped. 

“What did you do?” Megan asked. She had a look of bewilderment on her face that Howl hadn’t seen in quite a long time. It was a nice change. 

“Just a temporary fix,” Howl said. He hopped down onto the floor and added, a bit smugly, “want me to do the others?”

Megan narrowed her eyes, but stood up. “I’ll go with you,” she said. 

Howl shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He sauntered into the other room and left it up to Megan to follow. 

Megan did. She followed him to the living room where he very nearly knocked over a lamp trying to find it, and the hallway, and the bathroom. She didn’t say anything, which was a first.

“Upstairs too?” Howl asked. 

Megan narrowed her eyes. “How are you doing this?”

“Just something I picked up.” Howl patted the lightbulb fondly. “Not too hard, when you’ve got the hang of it.” 

Megan stared at him again. “You don’t tell me anything about yourself, do you? You’ve got to be doing something all that time you spend away, but never a word to us. What am I supposed to tell the people who ask? You might be a bum for all I know. And you come back telling stories and doing impossible things with lightbulbs. Tell me Howell, what am I supposed to think?”

The words were the same as they always were but the tone was just a little bit more vulnerable. Howl began to suspect lighting the bulbs had been taking things a bit too far. 

“It’s not a permanent fix, of course,” he said, patting the lightbulb and very neatly slithering out of the question. “But it should last all night, and probably until the power comes back on. No need to thank me,” he went on, “you can simply chalk it up as payment for storing my car.”  

“Howell,” Megan said, very stiffly, but Howl decided not to listen. He turned and ran upstairs, hoping against hope that she’d stay where she was. It was a good thing he knew the house so well. He and Megan had grown up here. His old room, the one the window in the castle originally belonged to, was still on the top floor, but he hadn’t gone in for years. He was rather afraid to find out what Megan had done to the place. 

“I don’t know what you’re playing at,” Megan said, climbing the stairs in near darkness behind him. “but you need to stop. Why don’t you ever think about anyone besides yourself?”

Howl lit the hall lamp, and immediately wished he hadn’t. Megan’s face was less severe than ever, and in it he could see fear and exhaustion and confusion. Howl felt a sick coldness in chis chest, the sort he felt when he stopped to think about how he’d left her behind to explore a new world by himself. He tried never to stop and do that. It was much easier to remember that his sister was frightening and overbearing and forget she was also worn down and unhappy. It was much easier to have adventures in Ingary and learn magic than to remember that once upon a time she had dreamed of the same thing. 

“You wound me,” he said, putting a hand on his chest. “I think a great many things of a great many people.” And then he was off again, around the corner, into Mari’s room. The family could absolutely get around by now, he could stop at any time, and perhaps he should. But it was something to do, and he was doing it. 

“After all I’ve done for you,” Megan continued, following him. “Fliers, every time I see a job posting. Numbers that you never call. I’ve spelled it out for you again and again. Get a job, get a place to live, find yourself some kind of stability. I can only imagine what your wife must think, you hopping place to place like you do. Mari says sometimes that she wants to write to you, but no forwarding address! Nothing! I can’t imagine how anyone would get a hold of you if they did want to hire you for anything.”

Howl turned on his heels to face her. There was an edge to that nagging that he recognized now. Sophie used it a lot when he went and did things she thought were stupid and dangerous. “Ah,” he said. “You’re worried about me.” 

“Well of course I am!” Megan snapped. “Anyone would be. You’re throwing your life away and all for-”

“Then I assure you,” Howl said, “you don’t have to be. I’m doing quite well for myself actually. Sophie keeps me right.” A very appropriate roll of thunder followed the name. 

Megan crossed her arms. “Is that so?”

“Absolutely.” Howl tried to flash a charming smile to reassure her, but found he was already smiling. Damn that Sophie.

The smile seemed to have worked, though, because Megan didn’t protest when he moved to Mari’s room. 

There he found a new problem. As soon as the light flickered on, Megan gasped. A crack in the ceiling was dripping, no, drizzling, water onto Mari’s nightstand. One stuffed dragon, a book, and a paper drawing were already practically ruined. 

“Oh, damn this rain,” Megan said. Her voice was tired now, without any of the usual bite. “I told Gareth, I said ‘this needs fixing.’ And did he do it? Hah. He’s a good man, Gareth, but he’s fairly useless at carpentry and the like.” She gave Howl a look that rather implied he should be picking up the slack. 

“Well then,” Howl said. “Go downstairs and I’ll patch this up. Learned a thing or two travelling, I’ll have you know. I’ll be able to fix this right as rain.” 

The thunder mocked him.

“How?” Megan demanded. “No tools? Nothing?”

“Trust me,” Howl said. Those were very dangerous words, and he regretted them immediately. “Trust me for the next ten minutes,” he amended. “I’ll fix this up. Well certainly I can’t make it worse than it already is,” he said when Megan still looked dubious. 

Megan shook her head. “I’ll never understand a thing you do,” she said, but she turned and left the room all the same.

“Probably not!” Howl called to her retreating back. He got no response. 

The roof was a simple matter. A bit tricker than the lightbulbs, but without Megan’s prying eyes he could do the spell properly. He used a crayon to sketch sigils around the leaking area, plucked a hair from his own head (with all the spells he put in it, it was guaranteed to give the magic an extra bit of power), and shook a bit of glitter off of an appealingly gaudy journal on Mari’s bookshelf. Not what he’d normally use, but it would have to do. 

A bit of muttering and quite a bit of wheedling with the magic proved to be good enough, and eventually the crack scabbed over with new plaster and healed, leaving a scar that would hold until Mari was out of her dragon phase. It was exhausting work, but Howl spared another minute to cast a simple drying spell on Mari’s things which had gotten damaged. 

And then it was time to go. No question about it. Howl was not going to stay and make small talk or be interrogated in that dining room. He was even less willing to stay if the unpleasant but familiar balance between himself and Megan had shifted. He slipped back into the master bedroom, changed out of his borrowed clothes, and then padded downstairs. 

“All done!” he called from the front hall. “No need to get up. I’m just going now. Rain’s cleared up and I really do need to get home. Lovely seeing you all!” Unfortunately, he had to put on his shoes.

“And just how do you think you’re going to get there?” Megan asked. 

“I’ll manage,” Howl said. 

“Come back soon!” Mari called. 

Howl promised he would, and then, despite Megan calling “wait!” at his back, he yanked open the door and returned to the rain. 

A simple incantation, and he reopened the door into the castle living room. Calcifer eyed him and his dripping clothes warily.

“Oh thank goodness!” Howl gasped. “It’s good to be home.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> For this and other random content, visit my tumblr @dwarven-beard-spores


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